We're All Okay
by The Real Tony Stark
Summary: If someone forgets every bad thing that happened, does that mean things can get better? The Braedon's forgot about Dean, forgot about hunting, forgot about the whole supernatural world, but Dean still remembered. And coming back into their lives brought forth the pangs of reopening old wounds. [Extends on 6.21, and what might happen in the years to come.]
_Extending on 6.21 "Let it Bleed" and what may occur in the years to come, the first part is told in the point of view of Ben Braedon._

* * *

Ben couldn't meet Dean's eyes.

Sure, the man was sorry and, sure, he was heartbroken, but something stopped Ben before he could forgive Dean fully.

He wanted to. God only knew. Ben wanted this to be a passing thing. He should be able to put this behind him so he, his mom, and Dean could be a family again, just like that one year they had together. But, Ben wasn't sure how well he'd handle that now. It had been one thing when Sam was out of the picture and Dean needed the next closest thing to a home in his heart, but now that the world of hunting had opened up _yet again_ , and had dragged his mom into it, Ben knew things could never be the same again. He could wish all he wanted, yet it wouldn't change a thing.

Ben could tell Dean was struggling with the realisation that it was all over, that his fast-paced way of life had pushed things too far in too many directions. Things were brought straight to the end of the line, and now they were teetering on the edge in a constant battle of balance.

"Ben. I'm sorry."

His voice was hoarse but gentle, harsh yet forlorn to all conscious ears in the room.

Ben sent an indescribable look to the man across from him, eyes flashing hot with anger, and suddenly stood. One could say he was disappointed, pissed even, but there was only so much he could do by staying there. He hasten out of the room, turned to progress out of the frame of the door, and did not bother glancing back.

 _If Dean had only showed me a few things, maybe we_ _wouldn't_ _be in this mess after all_ , Ben thought with a scowl. He could have _saved_ them before they left the house and that demon would have _never_ have possessed his mom. A voice in the back of his head chided at those laughable words, _Yeah, who are you kidding? You're_ eleven _._

Suddenly–

 _Clang!_

In his haste to get away from the room, in his absentminded moments, Ben's foot caught the edge of a bench and his face contorted into a scowl. Pain shot up through his foot, almost ' _ringing_ ' up his leg before it could subside.

 _You're too young to be in this life, kid._

"Like I don't know that," he grumbled, earning a few glances from the passersby. He ignored them.

"Please keep it down," one of them said, rather young in age. Her voice, Ben could tell, sounded forced into a softer, more understanding tone. It was meant to be soothing, but somehow it angered the Braedon more. _Everything_ seemed to, with his mom's life on the line...

"You don't know anything," he threw back childishly and sent an anguished glare her way.

A pause.

"Are you lost?"

"No."

"What's your name?"

"Ben," he huffed reluctantly, scoffing the sole of his sneakers against the ground.

"Alright, Ben. Come with me to the front desk. We'll help you find whoever you—."

"I know where my mom is," he spat. "And she's dying."

His face softened into vunerable mask of fear at the statement and he glanced away. Despite all the toughness he threw up, trying to be just like Dean, it crumbled at the realisation of his acceptance. She was dying, and Ben just accepted it. Flat out. Point blank. _Accepted_. _It_? How could he? What kind of bad son was he? Blinking more rapidly, he battled his way through a wave of tears that followed. A look of shock passed the nurses face before the sympathetic look, once again, regained control, her lips pressing into a flat line.

"Listen, Ben. Let me take you back. There's always room for hope—."

"The Doctor said." His voice was broken, almost inaudible.

"The Doctor _are_ trying everything to save her. That's the whole purpose of the hospital." While she was attempting to be optimistic for his, Ben wasn't buying it. Those words, they were empty promises. The nurse didn't know him, didn't know his mom, much less, so how could she speak words like that?

Ben turned, sneering to hold back the tears, and hurried back down the hall halfway before the end of her sentence. He stopped a few metres away from Lisa's room. Part of him didn't want to enter: it would just be him, Dean, and the pain and tension all too present to the both of them. Ben's eyes drifted inside, through the door. First, they landed on the hunter himself, the conflict within pouring out onto his expression while he spoke with... another. That was what made Ben freeze and continue to only watch from the sidelines.

The boy slunk into the slidelines and hoped he was out of sight. None of the men noticed Ben yet, but it was only a matter of time.

"—wish this changed anything," Dean was saying. His tone easily matched the look on his face.

Dean's eye caught sight of Ben and a sad, vague smile turged at the corners of his lips. Despite how much the Braedon wanted to turn and run away again, he somehow – for some reason – kept his ground. The two sets of eyes that locked shared exchanged a.. sort of, mutual feeling and Ben, without consciously knowing, seemed to understand. Something was about to be done...

"There's one more thing you could do for me."

There was barely enough time for the kid to object before the man in the trench coat dutifully straightened his head, turned around, and extended a hand Ben's way. A brilliant white light filled his mind and suddenly...

 _all was okay._


End file.
